I Know It's Out There Somewhere

I know it's out there somewhere, the ocean, that is. Water surrounds me, and yet it has been three weeks since I have seen the ocean... counting one week approaching shoulder surgery and two weeks since. I miss it.
I can feel the breeze here and sometimes I think I can smell the ocean, but I look at the line of trees around my yard, and it seems so far away. I like to go down to the beach at different times of day to walk, swim, or just sit. Something wonderful always waits to be seen down there... sometimes just the color of light on the clouds. Even driving across the high Emerald Isle bridge is thrilling - oh, especially when the big moon is hanging over the island.

I'm surprised how easy it is to become indifferent to the presence of the ocean nearby. How can that happen? I find it rare that anyone wants to go down there with me. My good neighbor lived on Emerald Isle for a year, and never went down to the beach once. My husband seems to feel that it is just too much trouble. I have met people who haven't been in years.

I've not yet lost the sense of wonder and refreshment I get from the beach. The ocean defines every aspect of life here. If you don't go down there and immerse yourself in the beach and literally in the ocean, what is the point?

Want to go? I'm looking for a ride.